Bloodletting, Part 1
by Her Mighty Ubergeekness
Summary: Eric is up to no good when he sends Thalia and Bobby Burnham off to handle a strange and dangerous task. Part 1 of 2. Rated M for a bit of Lemons. Apart from but follows canon. First FF, please Read & Review!
1. The Task

The trouble began when the man— the boy, really, since he couldn't have been a day older than 19 in spite of his driver's license's bold claim of 22, dropped to his knees in front of her at the table where she sat sipping her O-negative TrueBlood.

"Please, my goddess, I offer myself to you and I beg of you to drink from me! Sustain yourself through me!"

Then he muttered some barely intelligible Greek phrase that she noticed he completely butchered. His hair, obviously died coal black, stank of copious amounts of Aqua Net and his face was drenched in makeup in the attempt to make him appear pale when he had an obviously deep olive complexion. It was the contrived begging and the poorly cobbled together Greek that somehow managed to annoy her most. Once she deciphered what he was attempting to say in Greek, she realized that the fact that he had put far more effort into being asinine than anyone else who had approached her that night fueled her disdain more than anything else about him.

Quicker than he could blink, and certainly quicker than he could move, she dumped the remainder of her O neg onto his stiff six-inch mohawk. With that she rose and sauntered over to the bar to ask Felicia for another bottle, a bit of extra pep in her step from the momentary release she experienced during her bloodletting on the unrelenting fangbanger. She perched her petite frame on the barstool and turned to look in Pam's direction while she waited for her replacement drink.

"Ugh," she grunted.

Her thoughts mostly continued along a downward spiral from there.

_This is disgusting. _They_ are disgusting. It's enough that I have to live in this dump of a swamp state. Not having to deal with Sheriff drama is worth that. Northman is worth _that_. But this? They're so... _pathetic!_ I've been patient, but one of these days I'm going to lose my patience, and these 'bangers are going to find the bottom of my stiletto lodged very firmly into the bulk of a spleen or two..._

Thalia's deep disgust appeared to ooze from her now.

The rejected fang-banger returned to his small group of friends. Thankfully, Thalia didn't notice that they now regarded him with reverence for his brave and flowery attempt at gaining favor. He survived, and better yet, got a grand reaction from her. He was now king of the hill amongst his cronies. Pam looked in Thalia's direction, having watched the scene carefully. She decided there was need for concern. Standing next to his throne, she whispered in Eric's ear.

"Master, she's going to _lose it._"

Eric looked at her with a tiny but distinguishable note of confusion at her use of the euphemism. Pam realized she would have to be a little more obvious.

"Thalia. I get the distinct impression that soon she will bring any one of our patrons to their death. This is, of course, bad for business. Would you like me to handle this, Master?"

Eric grinned. He had been occupied with thoughts of how to lure his love interest, Sookie, to Fangtasia tonight, but now he turned his attentions to the matter at hand. He didn't see any reason why he shouldn't have a little fun tonight.

"Oh no, think I have a good solution for this. One that might keep her occupied for a good while, at least."

Just then, Eric saw his "day man" Bobby Burnham saunter into Fangtasia from the direction of the rear entrance. It was time for Bobby's weekly meeting with Eric, since his boss preferred face to face contact and a more detailed account of the past week's activities. He loved almost everything about his job with only two notable exceptions: the worst of the two was having to come to Fangtasia. He managed to cope with the occasional visits to the bar because he figured anything that put him in close contact with the boss he so admired wasn't a bad thing. Unfortunately, there were three primary denizens of Fangtasia: vomit inducing goth kids, undersexed emo pseudo-adults, and the constantly groveling fangbangers. Watching any of the three cavort around with zeal was not his idea of a good time. The other irritation was having to occasionally deal with that girl his boss seemed to be so fond of. Sookie Stack-something. He didn't quite get what Eric saw in her, but she was a minor annoyance in exchange for a fairly easy job for fairly awesome pay. Furthermore, he figured this job put him in the running for a better set of circumstances. Burnham had never verbalized this declaration, but he truly hoped that if he pleased Eric with his duties, he might be able to convince Eric to turn him someday. Some people assumed that anyone who worked as a vampire's day man was a fangbanger. Bobby Burnham had no interest in being a _banging_ a fang, what he wanted was to _be_ a fang.

As Burnham approached Eric's throne, Eric motioned for him to proceed into his office. Pam watched his entry. There was nothing surprising about Burnham's appearance at Fangtasia, but the look on Eric's face as Burnham walked past certainly got her attention. Just as she began to ask him what he was up to he breathed,

"Perfect timing. I'm not much of a fan of those Greek gods, but Chronos has proven to be a friend today. In five minutes, summon Thalia into my office."

With that he stood and disappeared into his office in less time than Pam had to grin.

Burnham bowed deeply. Once Eric sat in the chair behind his desk he launched into his report of last week's completed tasks. Eric interrupted him. There were more pressing matters at hand.

"Bobby, I have a more... _complicated_ assignment for this coming week that I would like to discuss with you. It is substantially more interesting than your usual duties, but you will be compensated accordingly, of course."

Burnham didn't have a clue what Eric had in store for him, but it didn't really matter. This might be an opportunity to become golden in Eric's eyes, and whatever it was he wasn't going to blow it.

"Of course, Mr. Northman. I would be honored. Allow me to grab my notepad-"

"Not necessary. Your attention will be sufficient." Eric looked up suddenly, acknowledging an approach that Burnham lacked the ability to hear. Just then, the door to Eric's office opened. Pam walked in.

"Master? I have your request here."

Pam motioned for Thalia to enter. She quickly closed the door behind her and disappeared back into the club. Pam may have left the room, but even with the din of the club all around her, she made certain to stay close enough to hear the goings on within the office.

"Thalia, this is my day-" He corrected himself.

Eric knew that Burnham was overly concerned with titles and status, and tonight he needed his employee to be completely cooperative. He figured that indulging him with the title Burnham preferred certainly wouldn't hurt his cause.

"This is my personal assistant, Bobby Burnham. Bobby, this is Thalia."

Thalia summed him up quickly. _Human, but not one of those whores. Acceptable. Fine. What does this have to do with me? _

She nodded towards Eric in response to his words, but she did not specifically acknowledge the human who sat beside her. That would be beneath her.

Burnham didn't hold all vampires in reverence, and he did understand the way many vamps regarded humans. At least he knew enough to know not to hold a grudge against Thalia, in spite of her reluctance to acknowledge his existence. As far as he was concerned, the more vamps in Eric's camp he could endear himself to, the better. He figured he only needed another fifteen minutes or so to come up with small ways to cultivate a relationship with her. Okay, maybe that was too optimistic. He'd settle for not having to guard his juiciest arteries when in her presence.

Eric, knowing full well he wasn't going to get any more of a response from Thalia, decided to continue just then. "As I was saying before. Bobby, I have an important task I wouldn't entrust to any other human. I have an item that needs to be delivered to a friend of mine. He has gotten himself in a bit of a spot, and I suspect what I have for him will help him out of it. I would like for you to deliver it."

Burnham nodded. No one would call Eric benevolent, but anyone who had ever worked for him considered him fair and generous. Everyone that still had their head, at least. In all fairness, those that met a bloody end under Eric's service ended up that way for legitimate reasons. He had no qualms about acting as the local VPS, or Vampire Postal Service, delivery guy for a few days if it meant he might be able to buy the current object of his affections. It was a book, a lexicon really, of syllabics in several ancient North American Aboriginal languages. It may just be a book, but it was a $15,000 book. So Burnham knew he could use all the help he could get.

"Now, Thalia," Eric nearly bellowed, "I know you aren't... thrilled to have to sit through Fangtasia duties. As I'm sure you've noticed, Bobby here is human, and I would feel more comfortable if he had a vampire escort since this task involves a modicum of vampire diplomacy. In exchange you are excused from club duties for the period you are away plus six months. Additionally, if all goes well I may have an another position that would suit you far better than sitting in Fangtasia. This position would, of course, relieve you of your current plight permanently. Would this be amenable to you?"

The offer of a less nauseating responsibility in Area Five certainly got Thalia's attention, but she had been around the block a few times. In fact, if a block was a year then she had then been around one thousand fifty times, exactly. He wasn't seriously expecting her to accept the terms on such vague information, was he?

"Tempting, but I need more details. To whom is the package to be delivered to, and where?" There was no need for any questions beyond that since vampire interactions were almost never predictable beyond the basics.

Eric looked pleased. This was actually going better than he expected. At this point he was thinking, _"Two birds, one stone. I wonder if I can work in a third bird somehow?" _What came out of his mouth was, "You will meet with the nestmate of my friend, and she will probably ask you to go with her to present the item to Maria Fredrick, Queen of Alaska."

Both Burnham and Thalia lifted their left eyebrows in interest and contemplation. Their expressions were nearly identical. Eric took note of this and almost had to choke back a laugh.

Burnham had already jumped on board, so they both sat and waited for Thalia's response as she stood there, obviously calculating.

Thalia grinned. Hopefully this would be a small price to pay to end her Fangtasia tenure. "Agreed. When do we leave?"

"Two nights from now. It will be an Anubis Air flight leaving early Wednesday evening but I will have more details for you tomorrow." With that, Eric picked up the phone on his desk and this made their dismissal obvious. Before they made it out of the room Thalia heard Eric address the person on the other end of the line with his usual jovial tone, "He might just yet make it out of this with his head still intact. If not, I _better_ be in his Will."


	2. The Flight

The flight from Shreveport, Louisiana to Fairbanks, Alaska was a long one, and so the departure time had been scheduled as close to sunset as possible. The need to get to the airport so early meant that Thalia had to skip breakfast in order to make it on time. This made her three times as irritable as she was normally. Worse yet, it didn't help her complexion much. Her usual pallor was replaced by a wanness that could put her in the running for a Casper lookalike contest if ever there was one.

"_Fucking Alaska of all places. I know there are worse things than being stuck on a plane with only a human for company for who knows how long, but it gets even better. At the end of the flight I'll be in the fourth circle of hell, also known as ALASKA. Fucking wonderful." _Thalia lamented for a minute, but sharply pulled herself out of the moment. _"No. Whatever is coming is exactly what I deserve. It is part of my punishment." _Her face settled into calm and acceptance as she walked up to the tarmac. She handed off her suitcase to the Anubis Air attendant and climbed the staircase onto the plane. Looking around the plane she began to wonder exactly how good of a friend this person was to Eric. The Learjet 25 she was standing in was just big enough for four people with the way it was arranged, so it was obvious that this flight had been chartered just for her and Burnham. She looked around quizzically for a moment until she was interrupted by the Anubis flight attendant.

"Welcome aboard, Ms. Magnus. Please feel free to have a seat." The girl bowed deeply. She wondered for a moment why the vampire wouldn't sit and relax, but then realized that the vampire was probably trying to figure out how she was going to sleep. She smiled at Thalia and continued, "There are two Sekhmet Boxes behind that secured wall. The instructions for setting the door's passcode is here in this information packet we have prepared for you."

Sekhmet Boxes were Anubis Air's latest gimmick, but it was a gimmick catching on quickly. They were essentially coffins especially suited for less secure surroundings. Made of a combination of tungsten carbide and titanium, they were nearly impossible to breech by brute force, and they were equipped with three levels of biometric locks and a hydraulic lid lift that the occupant could control at the touch of a button. Stealing the glorified coffin would be no small feat either; the dense tungsten made sure of that. In fact, moving them usually required a lot of men at minimum, or more ideally, a forklift. Any vamp that could afford the $300,500 price tag had one on order. The box was named after the Egyptian warrior goddess who was believed to be a blood drinker before the Great Revelation came about. Now that humans had been clued in, everyone called her out for what she was: a vampire. The ads displayed the tag line prominently: "Sleep like a diety. Sleep in a Sekhmet Box."

Now that Thalia understood where and what her sleeping arrangements were, she felt comfortable enough to take a seat. There was a plush eggshell colored leather reclining chair suited for a single inhabitant to her left, and a matching sofa across from it that could seat two. She chose the sofa and sat down.

The attendant continued on. "The flight length is approximately 18 hours and 25 minutes, primarily because this is a small aircraft but a very long distance to cover. It requires us to make four refueling stops. We apologize for the extra inconvenience, but these are the natural limitations to small craft charter flight. We will depart as soon as your companion arrives."

Thalia bristled a little until she understood that the flight attendant was referring to Burnham as a _travel_ companion and not as her lover. Speak of the devil, Burnham began to ascend the stairs to the aircraft at that very moment. He nodded at Thalia and took a seat across from her on the reclining chair.

The attendant reentered the cabin and gave her last speech, letting them know where the refreshments were located and when meals for Burnham would be served. "Mister Robert Burnham, welcome aboard. Ms. Magnus, you may be pleased to hear that in this compartment here there is a full compliment of both TrueBlood as well as a complimentary bottle of Royalty Blended at your disposal. The compartment is temperature controlled to exactly 85° Fahrenheit, so there is no need to preheat before drinking. Enjoy your flight."

The flight attendant took off behind some compartment door and the jets of the plane fired up. Thalia began to wonder what Burnham would try to start a conversation. _"I am perfectly fine discussing nothing, but I'm sure the human will want to talk. But whatever might I have in common with such a young creature? Ugh, they're all worthless."_

Burnham actually took the first step, surprising Thalia in the process. "Thalia Magnus? That's an interesting last name. I expected something Greek rather than Latin."

"I'm mildly impressed you would know the difference. It's a long tale. Where exactly did Eric scare you up from, anyway?"

"I was a post-doctoral fellow at Tulane when I responded to an ad for a personal assistant that was posted on a bulletin board on campus. Post-doc is a modern term for "indentured servitude" really, and I needed to make extra money. Especially considering my field was Classics. No guarantee of steady income just because you know a lot about the archaic."

Thalia decided to look past his humanity for a moment to size him up. Burnham was an average sized guy, around 5'10" in height, with a defined but not pronounced musculature. His ear-length sepia tone hair was well groomed, but just long enough that he developed a habit of repeatedly tucking the hair on his left side behind his ear. He was more casually dressed today than he was the last time she saw him at Fangtasia. This day he wore a pair of dark denim jeans with a simple golden toned polo shirt. Thalia couldn't help but note that the jeans fit him especiallywell.

Burnham decided that he wouldn't ever get anywhere if he didn't press a little, so he asked again, "Apparently we have quite a bit of time on our hands. So I would be up for hearing a 'long tale' as you say, if you're willing to tell."

Now that they were in the air, Thalia was comfortable enough to retrieve her standard O-negative TrueBlood from the modified wine cooler at the front end of the room. She wasn't going to give in easy since she hadn't yet exhausted the first topic.

"Classics, you say? Are you fluent in what _they_ consider _Ancient_ Greek?"

"I can manage a decent conversation in it. I didn't learn it in college, however. I picked up several variants of both Greek and Latin when I was 12 or so. At this point my biggest issue is that I sometimes get vocabulary confused from all the different languages I have learned... so no guarantees I won't mix some Modern Greek in by mistake."

This intrigued Thalia. _"Well then. Let's test the boy," _she thought. She raised her TrueBlood and drank deeply from it. She looked directly at him, and with the tinny taste of the synthetic blood in her mouth she was tempted to glamour him just so she could get a decent meal on this trip. Not wanting to land herself on Eric's bad side was the only thing that stopped her. Human or not, he was relatively easy on the eyes and Thalia always appreciated beauty. She looked directly at him and said, "Ei d' a'ge-_nun_."

Burnham wasn't a particularly proud guy, but he wasn't too keen on following orders from people who weren't paying him, either. He did get that she was testing his knowledge of her primary language though, and if he was going to get her to talk to him at all during this trip, he would have to be more flexible about taking orders. With that he got up, walked across the aisle and came to a stop standing just to her left. What he did next actually surprised Thalia. He leaned down and spoke seductively into her ear, "Es'tô."

Vampire or not, Thalia had been living a life of solitude lately, and she hadn't been this close to a man in quite a while. She preferred to drink from women to avoid exciting her libido. It was part of her self-imposed penance. The funny thing about it is that Burnham wasn't intending to be alluring; he tended to be more interested in books than people and that resulted in a touch of social ineptitude. He was prone to invading people's personal space, and in most cases it put people on-edge. In this case, Thalia thought it to be daring and it was quite the turn-on. It helped that he didn't butcher the pronunciation, and his inflection was perfect. Besides, what she said was, "Come to me- _now_." He responded by following her directions to the letter, then responded with, "So be it." She couldn't fault him for that.

Burnham wasn't perceptive enough to catch on to Thalia's flash of interest; he was too busy concentrating hard on figuring out his next move. He sat on the sofa beside her. Continuing in Ancient Greek he asked, "So, ThaliaMagnus, what other languages do you speak?"

Until now he hadn't been close enough for her to smell him. The scent of his blood combined with the fact that she hadn't fed upon waking- not good. Combine that with the fact that she had only consumed synthetic blood so far that night, and it was definitely not good. She gracefully slid a few inches further from him and answered, "Latin and Greek from my childhood. Then I lived through the Ottomans, so I picked up Turkish, and Arabic; some Farsi. I spent quite a bit of time in China. Some very interesting time in China. So Mandarin and quite a few dialects there. Later I ran across some Georgians and learned some Kartuli Ena and Russian. And of course, there's English." Now that she had been speaking in Greek her voice picked up the hint of an accent.

"This is exciting! Will you speak to me in Kartuli Ena? I've had no exposure to it. It would be fascinating to hear."

Thalia was confused. "Ti?" (Why?) "You will not understand me. How will this be enjoyable for you?"

"Ti mên?" (Why not?) "Well, if you start with describing things in the room I will be able to figure out the translation for some words. I may be able to pick up quite a bit, in fact, if you're willing to try it."

For the next couple hours Thalia talked to him in Georgian about as many mundane things as possible hoping that he might get a stray word or two if she pointed at things while she said the words. After describing the cabin she moved on to a contrived, one-sided conversation about the weather, and from there she spoke a bit about the country itself. She didn't see what good it was doing, until she moved on to describing herself.

Still speaking in Georgian, she said, "I am Thalia. I am wearing a sky blue pencil skirt and a blue and white, silk wrap-around tunic. I have very dark brown curly hair; almost black. I have gray eyes. And I am short; 1.6 meters tall. People underestimate me often because I am small-"

Burnham interrupted her there. "You neglected to say beautiful. Oh, and I imagine it would be a very, very big mistake to underestimate you."

Thalia had been around a long time, and it took a lot to surprise her. This was more than enough to do the trick. He spoke in English, but it was obvious that in the amount of time she had spoken, he managed to comprehend an extraordinary amount of the relatively obscure language. She spoke with incredulity. "Pos?" (How?)

"Oh." Burnham had just now realized that he had given himself away. He wasn't entirely uncomfortable over it, but it wasn't something he shared often. "It's just something I've always been able to do. I absorb information like a sponge, and I have a photographic memory. Combined, I can learn just about anything in a very short period of time, comparatively. It's not something I used to hide... but during my undergraduate studies at Carnegie Mellon some of my professors found out and suddenly everyone was planning my future for me according to their needs. I left when I got the position at Tulane and as soon as I stepped off the plane in New Orleans I decided to keep my ability as low-key as possible. Normally I carry a notepad with me wherever I go. I appear to take notes incessantly. That way, people are prone to believe I remember things well because I write them all down. Usually I'm actually just doodling. So anyway, if you spoke in Georgian for a few more hours I would probably be able to have a reasonable conversation with you. Now that I've heard it spoken, give me a month and a textbook of the language, and you won't be able to distinguish me from a native... colloquialisms aside, of course."

It wasn't often that you could catch any vamp with jaw hanging open, but this was a rather extraordinary circumstance. Besides, _this _was one of her weaknesses. Smart men were an aphrodisiac to her. Part of her disdain for humanity was due to the fact that she had met dogs with more intelligence than she'd seen from the average human. Those dogs weren't shifters, either. She was part of the subset of vampires that had a difficult time relating to humanity. The presently living usually knew nothing of any of the times she had lived in or the cultures she had adapted to. They rarely had an interest in learning about them, either. The exception to that rule were the academics that sought out and hounded older vampires for any information they could mine. They came crawling out of the woodwork after the Great Revelation, but now they'd all but given up since they found that 99% of the vamps born before the 18th century were extremely secretive. They didn't survive this long by revealing their stories haphazardly. In any case, from Thalia's point of view, the living were most often consumed in their _now._ Understandable, since the time they had was short, but completely uninteresting to her. Burnham, on the other hand, had _just become interesting_. Very interesting, indeed.

Thalia finally found the presence of mind to gather her expression again and spoke, "Well. This trip might turn out to be worthwhile just yet."

Burnham grinned. "Glad to have been of service."

They continued on through two layovers and an hour of turbulence developing an easy rapport between them. Thalia seemed to slump a bit, and with the more pronounced fatigue Burnham finally started to realize that she wasn't looking quite as healthy as she seemed to be two nights prior. With genuine concern he spoke, "Is something wrong?"

"The sun comes due. Within 30 minutes. I need to retire soon. If it is my coloring that worries you, it is just a side effect of not having had real blood today. I will survive."

"I see. So the official word about vamps being able to survive on synthetic is false then."

Thalia gave a faint nod. "It is technically possible, but not at all desirable."

"I remember being told that there is a bottle of Royalty Blended on board. Is that not the real thing?"

"Mostly it is. However, I have to keep in mind what my state will be when I wake from my slumber. It will be far more useful when I rise than it would be for me now. Now, I can manage. When I wake I may not be quite so controlled."

Burnham looked at her, curious. They had moved around the cabin a bit since the last refueling, and now he was sitting in the reclining chair. He normally thought far faster than others, and he possessed the astounding ability to truly process multiple thoughts at once. He normally did a good job at slowing things down when he was around others because people reacted badly. Some time ago he was made aware that when he got lost in processing thought his face fell into a vacant stare that made others think he was mentally retarded. Now, however, there was no way he could slow his thoughts down, and in fact, they just kept coming faster. _"I wonder what those fangbangers get out of the experience. Does it feel good? What will I do if she's more thirsty than I bargained for? 25 minutes until dawn and counting. It would give me an excuse to be close to her. She wouldn't deny me, would she? I need to make a decision... before I panic for no reason. Like, NOW."_

With that he stood, then walked to the sofa and sat beside her. He shifted and laid himself down across her lap, turning his head towards the other side of the cabin so his cheek was flush against her leg and his neck fully exposed to her mouth. Thalia just looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Will you... drink from me?"

"Ti?" (Why?)

He smiled. "Ti mên?" (Why not?)

Thalia was surprised at the offer, and though her age granted her the ability to refrain, she wasn't going to pass up a warm body- especially an attractive one splayed across her nearly bare legs. Furthermore, the submissive nature of the act was unusual; unexpected. This lit a bit of a fire inside of her.

"Tau'ta dê, es'tô. Kha'ris soi." (Yes... so be it. Thank you.)

She wanted to drink, but she didn't want to scare him off either. That could ruin what could be a very beneficial relationship over the course of the trip. Having two large fangs thrust into your neck was in no way a pleasant experience unless the donor was aroused first. Otherwise they need to be glamoured afterwards, but she decided the latter was a bad idea. She was sure Eric would object to finding that Burnham had been glamoured because he would suspect she was trying to hide something from him. He did not feed from Burnham though, so he shouldn't mind her feeding from him. This, then, left option one.

Burnham wasn't privy to her thoughts, so he continued to lie still across her, his eyes clenched shut in apprehension. He was expecting pain, so he was caught completely off guard by what came next. Thalia leaned over him and kissed his neck. She started with small, short pecks down the side of his neck and then gently stretched the collar of his shirt outwards to give her access to his shoulder. She slid her hand back up to his chin and turned his head so that his eyes met hers. Burnham had stiffened, but she continued. She motioned for him to sit up, and he sat, his back against the smooth leather sofa, though now it didn't seem to be quite as comfortable since now he was starting to sweat. Before he could blink she hiked her skirt up just enough to be able to straddle him. She now sat on top of him, around him, and with her face toward his, she pressed herself up against him until she knew he could feel the full swell of her breasts. He looked petrified, but his arousal was quickly starting to take over like a muscle relaxant. She pressed her forearms against him and shifted her hands to frame his face. She stretched upwards and gently nipped on his bottom lip with her teeth. Then she pressed her lips down on his with force until he relented. He was now kissing her back with vigor. She murmured into his mouth, "Good. _Now_ you are ready for me."

With lightning speed she pulled his head aside and plunged her fangs into his neck. As she drew his blood into her mouth, she felt all the remaining tension in his body release, and it fell to her to hold him in position while she drank. She inhaled deeply one last time since she was nearing her fill, and sank a little deeper for her last taste. In that moment the tension in his body returned and his arms circled around her in a vice grip. The rough texture of his jeans scratched against her violently as his entire body shuddered beneath her in release as she pulled out of him. Immediately she began to heal his wounds by licking his neck. She smiled and kissed him quickly, one last time before she looked up. It was almost as if she were sniffing the air. She whispered, "I must go," and kissed him just below the ear, one final time.

Bobby Burnham only managed a nod before she was up and securely locked into the rear cabin where her Sekhmet Box was housed. The door was closed and the sun was rising. All he could do was slump across the sofa, a million thoughts screaming through his brain until all at once, they stopped cold, and he fell asleep.


	3. The Deed

Burnham awoke an hour later to the sound of the wheels landing against the runway with a deep thud in Fairbanks, Alaska. He tried to stretch out in the back of the Hummer that was sent to bring him to the resort. He knew that the car would be sitting at the airport for a while longer because he had instructed the driver to wait until Thalia's Sekhmet Box was loaded into the van that would follow them to the Fairbanks Signature Resort. The population of Fairbanks hovered at less than 100,000, and it wasn't exactly tourism central. Because of this, the only vampire-suitable lodging within several hundred miles was an ultra-upscale cross-country skiing resort 30 minutes north of the city; the Signature. So while there were a thousand things on Burnham's mind waiting for him to meditate on, right now he was only coherent enough to just barely recall last evening's events. More than anything he was just excited to get to his hotel room. Burnham watched as Anubis Air's specially designed forklift moved Thalia from the plane to the van. As he turned his attention back to getting comfortable he thought aloud, _"Usually it's a limo. A Town Car. But a Hummer? Interesting. Oh yeah, there's 5 feet of snow on the ground. I guess that explains it. I can't figure any more of this out now." _He yawned deeply._ "Need more sleep. Another 45 minutes and I'll be half dead under a Elderdown comforter and 600 thread count sheets. Yep, that's what I'll focus on. They better be _at least _600 thread count sheets."_ Since making the travel arrangements fell under his purview, he knew exactly where they would be sleeping, and so he figured that even if Fairbanks wasn't going to be his new favorite place, this resort might just make up for it.

An hour after sunset, Burnham groggily opened his eyes when a knock at the door forced him up out of his sleep. Thalia waited at the door patiently, but then decided she really had no reason to be patient. _"I'm hungry, and I want to see where this goes. So let's get this show on the road, as they say." _She was wearing a v-neck crimson alpaca sweater, jeans and a pair of red suede Mary Janes. Thalia may have been short, but she always felt that wearing heels minimized her reaction time to any sort of threat, so she wouldn't put herself in that position now when there might be trouble afoot. Besides, she didn't mind her height. The better the element of surprise for those who didn't know better. She took a second to smooth out her sweater and knocked again. This time he answered. When the door opened, she took a long second to take in the view. He was wearing a pair of sage green flannel pajama bottoms that would have fallen off if his rear end wasn't quite so perfectly round, and the drawstring around his waist was cinched just enough, so the waistband hung low around his hips. That was about all he was wearing.

When Burnham opened his door to see Thalia standing there, his heart started racing fast enough to jolt him wide awake. _"Well, she certainly looks rosier tonight than she did yesterday. I suppose that's a good thing. I have to admit I wouldn't mind doing that again... if I didn't feel so woozy." _Thalia interrupted his thought process by speaking to him in Greek again.

"Good morning. I have news. I suspect, however, that it's probably not the kind of news we should discuss with me standing in the hall.

He nodded. She figured that was enough of an invitation and gently pushed past him and sat on the plush king size bed. Between the mattress, feather bed, and down filled linens, the bed was nearly three feet high, and sitting on it required a bit of a hop for her to get onto it. She continued, "Besides, I took the liberty of ordering room service for you since I knew you would awake a little... depleted."

She licked her lips. "You're O-negative. It happens to be my _very favorite._ I thought I'd return the favor."

A flash of panic happened across Burnham's face. His thoughts started to flood in, _"These pants are thin, loose fitting, and will not hide an erection. I will NOT get turned on. I won't. Stop it, now. Distract yourself."_

He started to reply to her in English, but then figured that their newly forming habit of speaking in Greek should at least provide them some privacy amongst any person or vamp that could overhear. The resort had a log-cabin style design. The interior walls were thick logs of spruce, but the doors were intended to be more decorative and as such was a solid plank of natural cedar. The doors of the vampire rooms were built with a sandwiched inner membrane of steel, so there were two doors to get through, but they were in Burnham's room right now and such precautions were not deemed necessary there. Anyone standing outside the door would be able to hear their entire conversation. Burnham got his act together enough to speak aloud. "Um, I'm glad you enjoyed...me. What did you order?"

"Almost Everything. Everything that did not have bacon. I don't understand why people eat bacon. I can't stand the smell. But I didn't know what you liked, so I ordered everything that did not involve charred swine."

Burnham smiled. His own wide, bright grin reminded him that bacon might be preferable to the smell of his breath right now. "All right then. Excuse me, I'll be back momentarily."

He loped into the bathroom to brush his teeth and to hopefully wash the look of deep, fatigue filled sleep from his eyes. Three minutes later, room service had arrived with his breakfast; three carts loaded to the hilt with everything from slices of quiche lorraine to a spinach and gruyere strata and about twenty different varieties of pastries. The accommodation itself was large, more like a two room suite. The various breakfast items were placed onto a dining table that was located in the living area of the suite, and Burnham started towards the table to dive in. Thalia followed and sat in the chair adjacent to his. That is when he noticed three bottles of TrueBlood dressed up in a heated bucket on the edge of the table. He mused, _"Well at least I know I'm not what's for breakfast." _He sat and spoke to her. "Thank you for joining me."

Thalia revealed a faint smile, then redirected her attentions to the blood on the table. "Apparently we will be keeping each other company today. It's casual Thursday for us."

"Oh?"

"We are not expected anywhere. I called our contact. We will be meeting with her tomorrow night. Tonight she is making further preparations for our appointment with the Queen."

"Did she tell you what kind of preparations?"

"Yes."

He peered down at her.

Thalia chugged half of one bottle then looked back at him. _"Here's to hoping the human doesn't panic on me." _She spoke. "She's arranging for the packing and loading of her and her mate's worldly belongings."

Burnham's eyes widened. "So best case scenario is that they'll be banished, or what?"

Thalia grinned. She was pleased. _"No panic. Just contemplation. I'm liking this one more each day." _She said,"Not necessarily. They may not be banished, but even if they get out of whatever mess they're in without punishment, it's not an entirely intelligent decision to stick around to live under a Queen that has at any point in time wanted to cut your fucking head off." She shook her head quickly as if confirming her conclusion to herself. "No, not a good idea."

He looked at her with a slight amount of surprise in his expression. She snorted. "Get over it and get used to it. Frivolous use of profanity is a useful thing when you're forced to spend centuries around testosterone drenched men wielding weapons. Its use makes it easier for them to see me as a fellow fighter, or at least belligerent enough to not be worth the fight. Makes them more comfortable around me and it transforms me from being seen as a girl they want to conquer to, rather, a girl they want to protect. While of course I need no man's protection, I am sure you can imagine that wielding a fierce attitude is easier than going around draining every man that may attempt to assault me."

Burnham shrugged. "Fair enough. I'm not bothered by it or anything. In fact, I regard it as a useful part of communication. I just... didn't expect it coming from such an..." _"Well, innocent certainly isn't the word..." _"...petite package."

Thalia shrugged.

In between taking bites of the poached salmon and sea salt omelette he thought, _"I should take this opportunity, if it means she's willing to reveal more of herself to me." _He took the leap. "Since we're talking about your collective centuries here... we've already confirmed that you're Greek. Why the Latin last name?"

"Magnus? I'm sure you might be able to figure it out. What do you know of the use of the word as a forename or surname?"

He pondered. "Magnus. Means 'great,' was adopted by many Scandinavian royalty as a forename..."

Thalia was beginning to have fun. She was also finishing off her second bottle of blood. "And where did they purloin its use from?"

Burnham's other line of thought took over now at the site of the second empty bottle. "Out of curiosity, how much blood do you need to sustain yourself? And the most prominent use of the word that I can think of was from Charlemagne. Charlemagne; Charles the Great. Carolus Magnus. Yes, I'm relatively certain they took the usage from him."

Thalia nodded, pleased with his quick progress. "Me? Even amongst vampires I am of a respectable age. Because I am old I can survive on less than a half litre a day if necessary. I just... truly love blood...even this tinny, bottled shit. I did not, however, intend to overindulge with you last night. It has just been so, so long since..." Though unnecessary, she took in a deep breath. "Well, anyway, yes. Charlemagne. I was born of an affair with the son of a Roman Patrician. My mother gave me my father's last name, but my father was a true asshole in every sense. In fact, he tried to have me killed a couple of times. In any case, he was a seventh generation descendant of Charlemagne, and seeing as that makes me an eighth generation descendent, I decided to use Magnus as my surname shortly after I left Europe. At the time it was quite a bit less recognizable than my father's name, and as you can imagine, a vamp girl's best asset is anonymity."

"Fascinating. Why did he try to have you killed?"

Thalia hid her enjoyment behind the vampiric equivalent of a poker face. "_This is so highly amusing. I might end up telling him too much, but if I do, Eric be damned I'm going to glamour the living shit out of him. Besides, he might figure a lot of things out on his own just yet." _What she told him was, "He had been elected to a high office..." She hesitated. "An office where great morals were deemed compulsory. Morals that he decidedly lacked. He was widely reputed as a man-whore, really, but I was the only verified proof of his consorts. His family preferred they stay rumors."

Burnham was now deep in his mind churning through pages of textbooks he had read but had long ago discarded from easily accessible memory. _"Son of a patrician... position of morals... eighth generation descendant of Charlemagne, that would put us in the 10th century AD..." "Jesus Christ, your father was a Pope!"_

This was the first time Thalia laughed aloud in at least a year. "How delightfully, ironically, blasphemous of you."

He continued in astounded excitement, "Pope... Pope John XII... he was known as a fornicator. And that would mean you were born.... in the 950s? Jesus, you're the daughter of Octaviano!

His excitement was almost contagious. Thalia now had to put some effort into holding back her laughter. It had been so long since she had come across a human with knowledge of European history in any depth. "959, to be exact. I'm glad you've found my parentage to be such a cause of pleasure. Like I said, as far as I'm concerned he was a real bastard. But I digress."

Burnham leaned back from the table, finally stuffed. He'd had at least one forkful of just about everything they brought to the room. Thalia was polishing off her third and last bottle of TrueBlood. He looked at her in defeat. "Does an overabundance of blood leave you feeling like there's a lead weight in your stomach like food does?"

"No. In fact, I could start all over again with the...right motivation." She eyed him with a hint of longing.

Again, he failed to notice the undercurrent of tension in her voice. "Must be nice." He grinned. "I should probably get dressed soon. So... since we have all night to ourselves, what are we going to do today?"

"Well, I'm not so much concerned for me, but seeing as you're quite a bit more vulnerable, we should formulate a plan for tomorrow. The fact that we are not needed tonight is a great opportunity for us. We are going to discuss what I think will expected of us when we present this item, and then determine a Plan B. Then we will continue by forming a Plan C. Additionally, we need to devise a contingency plan for all three, just in case," she smirked.

"_Concerned _for me?" Burnham looked up. "Should I be more distracted by the idea that you might care for my welfare, or worried about your implication that I may be in danger tomorrow?"

Thalia wiped any expression of kindness from her face. _"Hmm. I did say something that could imply that I am becoming attached to him. Poor thing, he really has no idea of the nature of vampires. The ones that actually care for you are the deadliest ones of all." _She looked at him with a dour glare, not wanting to admit to herself that tendency to form bonds with those she liked was completely out of her control. In fact, it was her vampire strength, though she saw it as a curse. Thalia's special ability of sorts was that she could induce people around her to be fast, loyal and steadfast companions. The type of bond that would with most people require an uncommon natural compatibility and thirty years of shared experiences to form would take her two days if she wished it. It was like a very focused, specific, and terribly powerful glamour that she could use with no effort and barely any intent, and it was a formidable talent. It resulted in having a virtual personal army of vampires and the occasional human that would fight to the death for her not because she she was vicious, but because they loved her.

While Thalia developed the skills of a master tactician simply from growing up under the set of circumstances she had, but it was her power that kept her both insulated and safe from many would-be aggressors over the centuries. Unfortunately, the bond went both ways. That meant that the loss of loved ones that vampires already struggled to cope with, amplified over decades and centuries, nearly crippled her. After the last incident that resulted in the deaths of her nestmates, she swore not to repeat her mistakes. But Thalia knew no middle ground. She was either part of a large, close-knit family, or she was alone. Since the 1990's she had focused constant effort into self-contempt and the isolation of herself from everyone else in order to repent for the use of her gifts.

When Thalia finally answered him, she decided to focus on Burnham's latter issue. "Don't be silly. Isn't it always the case that you should be more concerned with the issue of your mortality?"

"Well, yes, that's a good point. Maybe I was just hoping..."

Thalia looked at him, expressionless, but she was anxious.

Two of Burnham's more advantageous personality traits is that he was neither shy nor easily embarrassed by his emotions. He was often quite forward with his thoughts and emotions. It was often a bit much for human women, but Thalia found it convenient and pleasing. Vamps apparently found little use for embarrassment, and appreciated frankness because it was efficient.

"Well, let's be honest. It wouldn't be every day that I find an excessively attractive female declaring any sort of concern for me, so you can't blame me for hoping that there would be something more behind it. At the least I was hoping that by the end of the trip you'd tell me I have a nice butt." He stood, turned around, looked over his shoulder, and wiggled his behind. Thalia was still hesitant to crack a smile. Instead, she raised an eyebrow. Burnham continued, "Ok, maybe it would be more up your alley to compliment me on the fact that as a 27 year old I can speak a 2,000 year old language perfectly?"

Thalia caved. It was a bright, genuine smile and it completely changed her appearance. "Fine. Your ass is quite sufficient, and your language skills are quite impressive." Now her smile transformed to a subtle smirk. "However, it remains to be seen if you can put either of the two to any real, compelling use."

All he could do was grin. He walked back into the bedroom and climbed onto the bed. He sat on the bed cross-legged. Thalia half expected him to start meditating. Though he was working hard to make it unobvious, she could tell he was losing himself in thought. He took a second to ponder, _"I'm not even sure what I want. I know I want to know more about her. I know she fascinates me. I... know that she could kill me. Why is it the only thing I can focus on right now is getting her to, well, let me in?" _While he wasn't entirely uncomfortable, intentional flirting wasn't familiar territory for him, so having lost his nerve, he changed the subject. "The last third of the Byzantine empire. The Ottomans. Having lived through all these... exciting times, how on earth did you end up in Shreveport, Louisiana?"

Thalia stood up from the table and returned to the bedroom. She stood in front of the window and looked out, gazing at the falling snow. To her eyes it almost seemed to shimmer in the night sky. "It is of course a very long story. For now, suffice it to say that I have... horrible luck in choosing where to live. Between ambitious vampire power grabs and natural disasters, I have lost my home and most of my nestma-" She interrupted herself, "...my family members multiple times. I can neither control nor predict the natural disasters, so I figured I could at least do better at avoiding the power plays. Eric has a very good reputation for being a fair Sheriff. Additionally, he has positioned himself well. He has made sure that he is... less expendable. So I decided to come here to live under his territory, hoping for some peace. At least for a decade or two." Her voice began to fade a little, "It would be nice... if I could just have a decade or two."

In a rare moment where Thalia was free of distrust and skepticism, she spoke to Burnham in almost a whisper, "So you will have to forgive me if I am terse with you. Between the floods and the earthquakes I have lived through, I try not to like anyone with a pulse. You die far too easily. Generally, you humans make it easy to dislike you." The corners of her mouth upturned just a little. "Though you, specifically, may not be so bad." Smoothing her sweater down again, she turned to him and took the opportunity to appreciate that he still wasn't fully dressed. With a smirk she said, "Either way it has little to do with your level of attractiveness. I don't have to like you at all to fuck you."

Burnham spoke before he could edit himself, "Are you offering?"

Thalia could see that he was beginning to get apprehensive. It was in everything from his quickened heartbeat, to his scent. Oh, his scent. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. To Thalia it was musky with a hint of sweetness. It reminded her of a Fae nectar she had been given once. The nectar had healed her and brought her back from the brink of catastrophic injury. When she drank it she could barely see or smell, but two sips had transported her to a world of comfort and bliss. For a second she imagined that his smell could do that for her. She decided then that she would stop. She would not play flirtatious games with him; she _couldn't _play these games with him. _"I want him. I think I would thoroughly enjoy him if he were mine. But he is not. While he belongs to no one, he works for Eric, and that complicates things. There is also my sworn penance. I can't afford to form any... attachments now. I am done with that. I cannot do that again. I am so... absolutely... completely... done with... companionship. I could benefit from a few centuries alone_." She could only look at him.

Burnham was busy trying to gather courage. _"You can do this, Bobby; in for a penny, in for a pound."_ He put locked his fingers together, stretched upwards, closed his eyes for a long second, and pretended to be nonchalant about his flirtation. He tried to keep his voice from shaking. "To... fuck me. Are you offering to take advantage of me in that way?" He managed a comfortable smile. "I just want to be clear, you know. Though I would assume it would be much better if you _did_, in fact _like me_ of course. I suppose I can't have it all, though."

For a split second, she looked at him with a ferocity in her eyes that reminded him of just how lethal she could be. _"I'm so weak! I am so fucking weak in some ways. This will be the death of me." _With vampire speed she had him forced down onto the bed flat on his back. Her left hand not so gently cradling his neck, and her fangs fully extended, she leaned over him so her eyes were level with his. With as much restraint as she could muster, she put just enough glamour in her voice for him to recognize the influence she could have over him, but not enough to compel him to do anything. Her voice rang with a smoothness and mystical quality that was completely foreign to him, "Listen to me carefully. Be careful what you wish for, Robert. These days I try to be... as polite as a being of my kind can be. I do not take what does not belong to me, or what has not been offered to me unless absolutely necessary. But make no mistake. If you are offering yourself to me, I certainly will not refuse you. But I am not gentle. I am not patient. It is just not in my nature. I am certainly making you an offer. But _you_ need to be certain that I am what you want."

The tension was so thick it was palpable. Burnham was sprawled back onto the bed, his back arched and his neck in the soft pressure of what was essentially a vice grip with painted pink nails. The rest of his body felt like it was being swallowed since he had sunken down into the plushness of the featherbed and the heavily stuffed, embroidered and silken duvet on top of it all. Thalia's grip on him was the only thing keeping him from smothering into the pile of what looked like twenty pillows near the head of the bed. She had crawled onto the bed, straddling him yet again, and suspended an inch away from his face she was completely still and her eyes bore down on him, waiting for an answer. He was excited, he was aroused, and he was petrified. But the more he thought about how to answer her question, the less he could control himself. Suddenly, he burst out in half-coughing fits of laughter.

Having lost all ability to concentrate, he spoke in English. "Me?"

Surprised, Thalia let his neck go, and sat up sharply. Her expression softened but was now infused with obvious confusion.

Burnham's head fell back into the sea of pillows and he scrambled to sit up on his elbows to meet her stare. Still laughing, he began trying to choke off his laughter so he could breathe. Once he caught his breath he spoke. "I'm sorry, it's just... it's just that the one thing I've ever been able to count on in my entire life is that I always know what I want. I've always, always, been certain of the things I want. But since about 4 AM this morning, I haven't the foggiest clue about anything. I always see things in such a... linear way..."

His body was still shaking underneath her in laughter and his speech was punctuated by gasps for air.

"I have three goals. I have a plan for reaching those goals. Then I have have a plan to revisit my goals after those three have been attained. See? Very linear. Organized. Controlled."

By now he was almost guffawing. Thalia was thinking about slapping him, but he kept talking.

"But since yesterday I've barely been able to think straight. All I've wanted to do was get to know you. Understand you a bit more. Alright, perhaps a lot more. And I wanted to be... well, close to you. I'm sure that after a thousand years you know that you're gorgeous... intimidatingly so, but it makes it hard to not think about you... that way..."

He was starting to calm down now. Thalia's expression hadn't changed.

"And then there was last night. I wasn't expecting that. I wasn't expecting that at all. I don't even know what it means. Does it mean anything at all? Is... was that par for the course when biting? Or did you do that because..."

When he didn't continue Thalia realized she needed to answer him. "Turning you on? It is not necessary, but if one is not aroused it is not as pleasurable. I wanted you to enjoy it. To... enjoy me."

"But why? Why bother when you said you don't like to deal much with humans. Why bother to help me enjoy it?" He spoke with an urgency in his fearful urgency in his tone, "Why was I worth at least that much to you?"

That was a question she was completely unprepared to answer. Thalia remained silent. Burnham's voice got quiet and soft.

"And it wasn't fair, you know. You gave me no warning, and that was the first time. The first time that's ever happened..." A sheepish grin crossed his face. "At least, in the presence of a woman."

Thalia's face became one of incredulity. Since he was silent, all she could hear was his heartbeat and all the blood pulsing through his veins. His scent was still there, but far more potent now, and she was beginning to notice the extent of his trepidation. He was starting to tremble with nervous energy and she wanted desperately to calm him down.

Burnham began rambling now, "At heart I'm an academic. And I'm not blind. I know my tendencies don't endear me to most females. So I've gotten used to keeping these sorts of things in the realm of my dreams. Then suddenly here I am throwing myself at you like some sort of fangbanger..." He sighed, frustration and confusion in his voice. "I'm sorry, I..." He sighed again and went silent.

Thalia was torn. She wanted to comfort him but not encourage him any further. She was trying to backtrack but saw no way out that would both spare his feelings and not require more confessions on her part. Her voice was still soft and just short of hypnotic. "No. You are not like one of _them_. I would not have accepted your offer of blood if you were like them. And I did not know; I would never have assumed you to be a virgin with your... sense of worldliness otherwise." She reached down and brushed a lock of his hair off of his face. "We will leave this... discussion for another night perhaps. I think your first time should definitely be with someone else. A human. Someone who will-"

Burnham reached around her back and flipped her down onto her side with as much strength as he could muster. It was good for him that she was vampire; her vampiric reflexes allowed her to quickly and willingly react to his sudden aggression. She chose to concede. Otherwise, for Burnham it would have been like trying to flip over a brick wall. Now he was on his side, facing her, the length of their bodies pressed against each other.

"I have to disagree with you. Besides, does the human thing look as if it's worked out well for me so far? I believe I'm back to knowing what I want again; _exactly_ what I want."

Burnham realized that there was really no point in trying to seduce a woman who had around a thousand more years experience than he. His breathing was deep but quick "I can't even remotely pretend to take the lead here. So I'm asking you..."

He pleaded with her with his eyes. She was still struggling with herself. She wanted to relax with him. She wanted to connect with him, but it was difficult to control her ability when she let go. The longer she thought about it, the more she could smell that sweetness; the adrenaline permeating his blood. His brown eyes were alive with excitement, anxiety, and fear. Mostly fear. He was waiting on her to do _something_, just about anything would do, and he was becoming terrified that she would reject him. While his left arm was propping him up, and his right arm was still around her waist, suddenly he had noticed the absolute stillness, almost rigidity of her body. As still as her body and her shut eyes were, he could feel that she was struggling with a decision. Dejected, he shifted away from her and crashed down onto his back, bouncing a bit on the thick linens.

Still on her side, she reached out to him. "Robert listen. It is... complicated. This whole situation might have more ramifications than you would expect, and it would not be honorable for me to-"

She was interrupted by the pressure of his lips on hers. He had lunged forward and wrapped his right arm around her and used his left to hold himself upright, pulling himself out of the five inch bulk of silk and feathers. The feel of the silk in the fireplace-warmed room was a rousing, subtle contrast to the slight chill of her cold skin. She allowed herself to fall backwards as they kissed, but she unhurriedly reached for his hands and began to guide them. He had asked her to take the lead, and she was going to try to do that without making it obvious. It wasn't lost on her that if he thought he was taking all of the initiative here, he may not take it poorly when he eventually found out the potential consequences of loving her.

Burnham had released his deep kiss and had started covering her neck in short, sweet pecks. He nudged her sweater aside to continue along his path, and when he reached the small hollow of her collar bone, he lingered. Any reservations Thalia had now vanished. Her fangs had descended, and between him on top of her and the enveloping bulk of duvet below her, even with vampire strength she struggled to pull her sweater up over her head. He lifted himself long enough for the sweater to be thrown halfway across the room. She tried to sit up slightly underneath him and he grasped desperately at her back, trying to remove her bra. She shifted onto her elbows to help improve his access, since 15 seconds later he was still yanking at the hooks.

She could feel his smile as his cheek brushed against hers, and his voice came out as a gasp. "Give me some credit here; you do this every day. Me, not so much."

Thalia had exhausted her patience. She responded by carefully tugging at his ear with her teeth before whispering into it, "Shut up."

The bra off now, she playfully shoved him aside to yank off her jeans. She was moving fast, but once she had shoved them below her knees Burnham managed to help pull them completely off. Ten second later, his pants were off as well, and he took a second to take in the view. It was the last second he would get, because just then she grabbed him and wrenched him towards her. Had he not been so pumped full of adrenaline it may have hurt him, but at that point his attentions were fully elsewhere. Accompanied by a urging moan, she forced herself to control the speed of her movement so as not to overwhelm him. She wrapped her left leg around him and used her right hand to gently guide him into her.

He was starting to palpitate now, and even Thalia began to breath heavily as he struggled to keep rhythm and grasp her breast to caress it. He arched his back to reach her left nipple with his tongue as her breasts heaved back and forth, and just as he managed to reach it, he began to realize the swell building within. His jaw tightened and his breath quickened. Thalia could feel, smell, and almost taste every minute shift in his anatomy. When she felt him tense she moved quickly to distract him. Controlling her strength as much as she could, she locked her other leg around his waist and flipped him, forcing his exit just long enough to halt his climax. Her words came out as a frenzied cry, "No! Not. Yet!"

His face was strained with the attempt to stop, but the sudden movement was enough to halt his orgasm. Now there was no question she was in control. She climbed astride Burnham and with renewed ardor she bucked against him. His hands seized onto her waist desperately, and it was all he could do to hang onto her since he was so lost in the exhilaration he could not coordinate his muscles to do much else. When she felt her own fervor rising, she shifted to reach his lips with hers, but this time was different. Now she had given in to him, and despite being in the middle of rapturous sex, she was angry. She was angry at herself for being fallible and angry at him for unnerving her. For being so alluring to her that now she had tied herself, inescapably, to a human. Her kiss this time was vicious, and just when Burnham thought he was going to dissolve around her she thrust her hands behind his head, burying them in his hair, pulled the nape of his neck towards her lips, and plunged her fangs into his jugular at the base of his clavicle.

He came inside of her just as his blood surged into her mouth, and her body recoiled against his with the force of her own orgasm. He screamed just before he collapsed back, completely splayed onto the sheets. She lapped softly where she had bitten until the blood slowed, and then stopped. She continued until the fang marks had faded and then disappeared. She slid to his side, reached beside him and pulled the duvet over them both. All he felt was a new sense of warmth and comfort as he blindly reached to pull her to him as he drifted off into sleep. Allowing herself to be pulled closer, she sighed and watched his face relax into an declaration of complete tranquility. Watching him sleep, her first clear thought was, _"Damnit, now I'm going to have to order him the entire lunch menu, too."_

----

The rest of that night drifted by lazily for them. Thankfully he had awakened before she managed to order the majority of the lunch menu for him at 2 am. Settling for a club sandwich, they lounged around and talked about various worldly things until Bobby felt he couldn't put it off any longer. Thalia was draped across the sofa in the sitting room while Burnham dug through his suitcase looking for a pair of jeans. She was dreading the topic change, but she knew it would come.

Burnham's face revealed that he was flustered. _"I don't want to bring this up because I'm afraid of what her answer will be. What a role reversal! Is this what it's like for the typical teenage girl, head over heels in love with the guy that just wants to screw her? Well, at least I won't allow myself to be clueless for long." _He looked towards her and spoke, "Thalia, I need to know if this means anything to you. I have to admit that I... well, I don't really know how these things go with vampires, but if there is such a thing as a commit-" He stopped himself cold. He already had a feeling that he was asking for a lot. He wasn't going to take it further than he absolutely must. "-A serious relationship in the kind of life you lead, I would really like to be with you in that way. I feel-"

This time Thalia cut him off. "I know how you feel. Let me guess; you feel strangely drawn to me. There is a fondness there that makes you want to want to be close to me. I am probably quite a bit more... likable than I was yesterday. I feel... safe, for you. Comfortable. You probably also feel a little defensive about me now. There is a hint of a drive to want to protect me. Worst of all you are feeling everything short of a compulsion to kiss me every time you look at me."

Burnham was awe-struck, and he stood up from shrugging his jeans up his legs. As soon as he buttoned them he turned around to gape at her for a second before he spoke. "Something like that. Am I that transparent, or does this have something to do with the 'consequences' you spoke of earlier?"

Thalia nodded. "It does. I..." In a thousand years it never got easier to explain it. It didn't help that she normally didn't discuss it with the victim. She had found that it created a strange dynamic for someone to love you, know that it wasn't exactly of their own free will, but still have no choice than to continue to love you. "Do you know what it is, what it is for a vampire to use glamour?"

Burnham nodded.

"Well, it is something like that. But it is far less of my own volition and a great deal more potent. Simplified, it makes people like me. A lot. I could have kept it from affecting you had we not been intimate; had I not wanted you so badly. However, it seems that things progressed differently, and here we are."

"So you're saying that this feeling of wanting to change everything in my life to be with you is basically the result of a super-special vampire spell you put on me?"

It was Thalia's turn to nod.

Burnham howled in laughter. Thalia was beginning to suspect the whole situation was about to make him crack. "Robert, you need to take this seriously."

"Oh, just so I can be clear, are you going to call me Robert all the time, or just when you really want my full attention?" He continued, amused. "I am taking it seriously. How do you expect me not to? Don't get me wrong. I don't doubt that you have this ability. I only doubt that it's affecting me as much as you think. Think about it. You're the first woman I've talked to for longer than 30 minutes that doesn't bore me to tears, you're damn near a living goddess, and before you ever laid a lip on me I had just about placed myself emotionally prostrate to you several times. I don't think I could have made myself anymore vulnerable. Then, to top it all off I volunteered a major vein just to provide you sustenance. I think I was obviously falling for you quite a bit before I gave you my virginity. Which, by the way, is also a pretty big deal and was a decision I made _before_ you super-glamoured me. Whatever role your power may play in this situation, it certainly isn't entirely responsible."

Thalia tilted her head and looked at him incredulously, "What if you are wrong? Why are you not bothered by this?"

He shrugged. "Why should I be? I know how I felt before we made love, and however I feel now, it isn't useful to waste time resenting you for feelings I enjoy having. I can't recall ever being this... optimistic towards anything before. Ever. I'm happy." Then the possibility occurred to him, sharply cutting into his mood. "The only reason I would have for hating this is if this is... unrequited."

She sat up and patted the seat on the sofa next to her, gesturing for him to sit beside her.

"I'm not going to lie to you. There is nothing about being with me that will be easy or simple. And I fear for you. Being the human companion of a vampire can be a dangerous thing, even if I do try to stay out of anyone's attentions." She placed her hand on his leg. "But yes, I do care for you." Now a broad grin spread across her face, "and I have no plans to kick you out of my bed if you are not dying to get away from me."

Thalia was pleased this was working out far better than she had hoped. Her look changed to one of compassion. "I am not particularly ravenous as far as vampires go, either. I have no desire for any other bedroom companions, so that should not concern you."

He was smiling. He leaned towards her to kiss her but interrupted himself. "Forgive me if this is presumptive or rude, but I know only of what I've seen in Fangtasia or in the presence of other vampires that Eric has reason for me to be around. I have to assume that you have... those you feed from, yes?"

She stifled a snicker. "It is rare when I feed directly from a human. On the rare occasion that I do desire warm blood, I do have a very small, select group of those I can call upon. Mostly I..." She paused, "Brown-bag it."

He looked at her quizzically.

"Blood bags. My donors use blood bags. Most vamps feel that they must have the warmth and the excitement of a biting a body. Personally I find it far more convenient to be able to retrieve my sustenance from the refrigerator, much like yourself. It also saves me from having to deal with humans on a regular basis. Managing their emotions can be taxing, and I have to work hard to keep them from getting attached to me. It is much like not wanting to cuddle after sex, you see. I take their blood then I ask them to leave. I want nothing to do with them after feeding, and their feelings are hurt. Yes, this way it is much easier all around."

She glanced toward the window. "Dawn approaches. Again. Seems to happen every day."

Burnham chuckled. "What about developing our double-triple-quadruple back up plan of operations for tomorrow?"

She kissed him quickly and then smiled. "I didn't want to wake you, so I finalized our hopefully unnecessary escape plans while you were sleeping. Just follow my lead; I am sure we will be fine. Do not stay up too late today... Bobby. Yes, indeed, I think I will reserve Robert for when I really need your attention."

Thalia retired to her room for the day, and Bobby Burnham spent half the morning staring out at the falling snow, wondering what he had just gotten himself into, and wondering what would await them both at dusk.


End file.
